


Call me Babe

by moffwithhishead



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, mcdanno au bc I wanted to~~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moffwithhishead/pseuds/moffwithhishead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>The house is quiet, empty and covered in crime scene tape when Castiel walks into it. He hasn’t been here in… jesus, probably twenty years, but the place hasn’t changed - the stain from Anna spilling her finger paint is still on the carpet in the living room, the scorch marks on the wall are still next to the fireplace from that one time when he and some friends tried to make s’mores, and their school pictures are still up on the walls. He wonders briefly if the fact that his dad has their pictures from after he sent them away should surprise him but puts it out of his mind when he gets to the garage door.</p>
  <p>Again, there’s not much in there for Cas to look at - nothing seems to have changed since the last time he was in here, the night their father told him that he was sending Cas and his little sister back to the mainland. </p>
</blockquote><b>h50 AU</b>
            </blockquote>





	Call me Babe

The house is quiet, empty and covered in crime scene tape when Castiel walks into it. He hasn’t been here in… jesus, probably twenty years, but the place hasn’t changed - the stain from Anna spilling her finger paint is still on the carpet in the living room, the scorch marks on the wall are still next to the fireplace from that one time when he and some friends tried to make s’mores, and their school pictures are still up on the walls. He wonders briefly if the fact that his dad has their pictures from after he sent them away should surprise him but puts it out of his mind when he gets to the garage door.

Again, there’s not much in there for Cas to look at - nothing seems to have changed since the last time he was in here, the night their father told him that he was sending Cas and his little sister back to the mainland. 

If he’s honest, he’s still not really sure what he’s doing back home (the governor had asked for his help, true, but he should be back with his team trying to catch bigger bad guys, like SEALs do). If he’s even more honest, Cas has no idea what possessed him to walk into the garage in the first place. He just knows that there’s something in there, something that is important and integral to finding the men who killed his father.

Belatedly, he pulls back the cover on dad’s old camaro and realizes that he has no idea if his dad ever got it to run. There’s grease covered rags on the front seat of the car, a couple of burger wrappers and an empty bottle of scotch that Cas decides to ignore.

He turns around after a moment and immediately spots an old tool box on the workbench buried under some crap that he doesn’t recognize. It takes him a minute to get the jars of nails, nuts and bolts off of the thing but once he does, Cas can see the name on the front of the box in big letters: “ **CHAMP**.” 

His breath catches in his throat as his father’s words from the phone call before he died replayed in his head, “ _Listen to me, Champ_ …” 

Thirty-five years and his dad never called him Champ. Not once. 

Cas breaks the lock on the thing in under a minute and starts pulling everything he can out of it. There’s a key, one of those old-fashioned, ornate looking ones, and he looks at it for a moment before setting it aside on the workbench. Next he finds a tape recorder that looks almost as old as he is. On a hunch, he presses play and is suddenly smacked in the face by his dad’s voice over the little speaker -

"It is simply unsafe for me to continue writing this book anymore. The kids are in danger. I don’t trust anyone - can’t even trust my cop friends. Somebody in the police department…" Chuck sighs, "I’m going to have to do this on my own." 

The tape cracks a little and Cas, his attention rapt, catches little snippets of things (“Key”, “haven’t figured”, “killed my wife”, “Anna”, “protect”, “Castiel”) before he hears a floorboard creek from inside the house. He has the tape recorder paused and back in the toolbox in a second, his other hand already going for the gun resting on his back.

A slightly taller man comes into the garage and pulls his gun up into position as soon as he sees Cas, his voice deep and demanding as he walks around the camaro, “Hey hey hey! Hands up asshole-” Cas pulls his gun out and trains it on the man before he can finish his sentence and growls right back, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

"Who are you?!" The other guy half-yells indignantly as he moves to train his gun on Cas’ head instead of his chest and Cas finds himself yelling back, "Who are  _you_?!”

The other guy glares at Cas and solidifies his stance before yelling at him, “I am Detective Dean Winchester-“ 

Something inside of Cas relaxes minutely and he doesn’t let the guy finish before he blurts out, “Lieutenant Commander Castiel James Novak. This is my father’s house-” Detective Winchester ignores him and yells again, “Put your weapon down right  _ **now**_!” 

They’re yelling over each other (“No  **you**  put  _your_  weapon down!” “Are you stupid?! I’m a fucking cop I just asked you to put your fucking weapon down!” “I will shoot you I swear to-” “You’ll shoot me?! You’ll shoot a cop?!”) before somebody finally screams, “Fine, show me your ID!” Dean steps forward a little and shakes his head, “No you show me  ** _your_**  ID! Right now!” 

Logically Castiel knows that this man is a cop and that he probably won’t shoot him (his confidence in that is wavering by the minute now though) but still, he wants to be safe, “No, I’m not putting my gun down.”

Dean rolls his eyes a little before his voice softens, but still maintains the same special brand of annoyance and ferocity, “Well… neither am I.”

Castiel nods and motions with his gun a little, “Okay, use your free hand and take out your ID.” The detective’s face immediately hardens again and his voice sounds fakely sweet when he says, “No no, please, after you.”

It takes every ounce of willpower Cas has to not whine and stomp his feet in frustration as he sighs out, “Fine. At the same time?” Dean stares at him blankly for a moment before he says, “ _ **At the same time?**_ " Like he can’t believe the audacity of Cas to even suggest such a thing. 

"Yes," the SEAL growls out, his patience finally wearing thin, "At the same time." He can tell that Dean is fighting a smirk when he says, "What, like, on the count of three?" Castiel does groan a little that time as he sighs, "Yes, fine, okay, three’s good." 

Dean considers that for a moment before taking one hand off of his gun and bringing it to his hip as Castiel does the same, “One…” Both men said the next number together as their hands came down to rest on their respective badges, “Two…” 

Both badges are being held up before they even get to three and Dean relaxes immediately as soon as he sees that, yes, Castiel is legit, and they both move to put their guns away at the same time. 

"Listen, uh… Cas, was it?" Dean breaks the awkward silence first and steps closer to Castiel, gesturing with his hands as if trying to convey the importance, "I’m really sorry about your loss man, but you can’t be here right now. This is an active crime scene." 

Castiel looks around the room, which doesn’t look like it’s been touched in at least two months, before looking back at Dean, “It does not seem that active.” The detective keeps walking towards him, seemingly unfazed now that there’s no gun pointed at him, “Seriously, Cas, I can’t share any information with you about the case but I assure you-“ 

"Uriel wasn’t here alone when my father was murdered," Castiel interrupted him before he could finish blowing him off. "Someone was sitting at one of the kitchen chairs in the living room next to the desk. They put it back but there’s bloodstains on the legs and there’s dust outlining where it was. Whomever it was cleared off enough space on the desk next to where the chair was sitting to make room for what appears to have been a thirteen to fifteen inch computer and my father despised computers, detective."

That seems to give Dean pause for a moment before shaking his head, “I really am sorry Cas, okay, but you gotta leave.” 

Since he seems to be getting nowhere with this, Cas locks up the toolbox again and picks it up off the workbench, annoyed by everyone on this island but most especially the Haole standing in front of him, “Sir, yes sir.” 

He barely makes it ten feet before he hears the detective’s voice again, “And leave the box! That is evidence, you know that. They don’t let idiots into the SEALs, right!?” Castiel looks down at the box in his hands and looks back up at the irked detective, “Oh, this? I came with this.” 

"Dude, no you didn’t!" Dean glares at him as he walks over to the workbench where Cas had just been standing and gestures to the table, "I can see the fucking dust outline that it left, right here on the counter."

This was supposed to be quick and easy. This was not supposed to involve a pain in the ass overzealous detective who seemed to have decided that it was appropriate to give him a nickname already.

So Cas changes his tactics - “How long you been with the Honolulu PD?” Dean glares at the other man for a moment before scowling and flailing his arms around a little, eventually crossing them over his chest, “What?! None of your business! What, are you fuckin’ Oprah or somethin’, man? Break into crime scenes and interview the cops who stop you about their life stories?!” 

"No, no no," Castiel’s face hardens and takes on he immediately goes from ‘Cas’ to ‘Lieutenant Commander Novak’, his tone becoming a little more harsh, "Actually it is my business, Detective Winchester, because you are investigating my father’s murder." 

"I am," Dean nods and gestures frustratedly towards the door that leads back into the house, "And I’d like to get back to that! The sooner you leave, the sooner I can!" Castiel holds up his hands in a manner that’s meant to placate the detective as he backs towards the door, "Alright, okay, anything you say, officer." 

"Dude I’m not fucking blind," the detective growls and looks like he’s about thirty seconds away from shooting Cas just for the hell of it, "Leave. The. Box! Or get arrested, alright? Those are your choices." 

This amuses Castiel more than it probably should. “Oh yeah?” He smirks a little, “You gonna call for back up?” 

"No," Dean shakes his head and sets his mouth in a firm line, "An ambulance." 

 _Oh_ , the SEAL thinks to himself as he sets the toolbox down on the hood of the camaro and pulls out his phone,  _So he wants to play it this way, huh_? Dean seems to relax a little and nods, “Thank you.” Castiel stops just short of grinning as the governor’s secretary picks up on the third ring, “Don’t thank me yet.” 

Dean looks more than slightly suspicious now as he frowns at Cas and then the toolbox, “What, ah… what’re you doin?” Castiel holds up and looks away as he says, “Hello, yes, may I speak to the governor, please? Tell her it’s Castiel Novak.” The detective rolls his eyes and starts to pace around the garage a little as he mumbles to himself, “Oh you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me…” 

As soon as he hears the governor pick up, Cas puts his phone on speaker and her voice fills the garage - “Commander! Did you think about that offer I gave you, yet?” Dean’s eyes get a little larger at that.

"Uh, yes ma’am," Castiel nods as he takes the phone off of speaker, "I’ll take the job." A few seconds later he looks up at Dean and licks his lips a little, "What changed my mind? …Let’s just say that circumstances have changed." He turns back and starts to walk towards the other side of the garage again as he nods, "Yes ma’am, I can transfer into the reserves and take over your task force as soon as next week… What… you, uh…" His cheeks heat a little as he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Now? …Okay. Give me a moment…" 

He turns around to see Dean leaning against the car looking exasperated and bites down a grin. Cas holds his right hand up and listens for a moment before reciting back, “I, Castiel J. Novak, do solemnly declare upon my honor and conscience, that I will act at all times to the best of my ability, knowledge and in a manner befitting an officer of the law.” He’s quiet for another moment before sighing, relieved, “Thank you, governor.” 

When he hangs up Dean has a somewhat bemused look on his face that falls quickly when Cas hangs up and grabs the toolbox again, “Now? It’s my crime scene,” and walks out before Dean can stop him. 

—————————————————————————-

That afternoon it  _pours_  in Honolulu. The cab driver has to drive a full ten miles under the speed limit to keep from fucking up and it takes them a good fifteen minutes longer than it should’ve for Cas to get to the address that is supposedly Detective Winchester’s apartment. 

Luckily, Dean opens the door after two knocks and his face falls when he sees who it is, “You know, I usually require that you at least buy me dinner before I let potentially homicidal Navy SEALs know where I live.”

Castiel ignores the dig and pulls out the file from under his shirt, “I spoke to your commanding officer, Bobby. He said you requested a wire tap to be put on a man named Crowley?” He pushes his way in past the other man, “Tell me about him.” Dean opens the door a little wider and sighs, “No, that’s fine, come right on in, man.” 

The place is kind of a shithole. It’s a bad neighborhood, the furniture looks like Dean picked it up on the side of the road, and there is crap everywhere. Literally,  _everywhere_. Books ( lots of Vonnegut, shockingly), tapes (who the hell even buys tapes anymore), records, movie cases, children’s toys (or at least he hopes they’re intended for a child), case files - it makes the SEAL in Cas more than slightly anxious to see everything so out of order. There’s pictures though, lots of them, and that admittedly takes Castiel by surprise. He picks up the one on the end table (the detective is with one man that’s not much younger than him and a boy at a state fair, all three of them with huge smiles on their faces) where Dean’s service weapon is resting and looks up at Dean, “Is this your, ah…” He treads carefully when he says the next word, “Partner…?” 

Dean looks confused for a moment before his face twists into something that can only be described as a perfect balance of disgust and horror, “What?! Dude, ew, fuck no, that’s my little brother!” Castiel frowns, confused, before nodding and setting it back down, “Ah. I apologize. I should not have assumed…” 

"And yes, before you ask, that is my kid and no, I’m not talking about him with you," Dean nods and gestures to the sofa before sitting down in an arm chair himself. Castiel hesitates for a second before nodding and taking up Dean on his offer, "Alright, so, who is Crowley and what does he have to do with my father’s murder, Detective? And why have you put in five requests to get his one phone tapped?" 

"You’re really all about gettin’ right to it, aren’t ya?" The detective smirked a little as he took a sip of his beer and shrugged, "He’s an arms dealer, a real dick. Did five up in the federal prison for selling shit to terrorist groups. People say workin’ with him is a bit like selling your soul… anyway," Dean waves his hand dismissively, "When we ran the forensics on the bullet that killed your father…" His eyes flick up to meet Cas’ for a moment before looking back down, "His name popped up. I’ve been trying to figure out if he just sold somebody the gun or if it was him or if he has any idea or what. Dude’s got guys on the inside somewhere, keep turning down my requests." 

Castiel nods and stands up again, “Alright, well, he’ll probably be able to answer those questions best himself so let’s go get him.” He starts to walk towards the door and gets as far as putting his hand on the handle to open it this time before Dean’s voice stops him, “Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa man,  _us_? Cas, are you suffering from dementia man, or what? This is no longer my case.”

"Your captain said you transferred in from Kansas seven months ago because you were looking for a place that was new and fresh," Castiel crosses his arms as he stops and turns to stare down Dean, "But you know what I think?" Dean rolls his eyes, "Dude, my psych eval isn’t for like another two months so can we hold off on this until maybe the 34th of Never?" 

"You live in a one bedroom studio in apartment in a neighborhood I hope you looked into because of the notoriously cheap rent and not something else," Cas continues on like he hasn’t just been interrupted. "You sleep on a pull-out sofa bed, you have no ring on your finger, which tells me that you moved out here to be closer to your son. And between the hours you’ve logged in the past two months, your record from back in Kansas and the short amount of time you’ve been here says you’re a good cop, maybe even a great one, it’s clear that you don’t have much outside of your job and your kid and that you take pride in your work. And that’s exactly what I’m looking for." He turns to try and walk out the door this time but again, Dean’s voice stops him.

"You know, it’s assholes like you who think that they know how to do everything better than everyone else that only end up making my job harder," Dean, for the first time since Cas met him, looks less than amused.

Castiel, to his credit, does look a little apologetic when he says, “You have no choice, detective. The governor gave me jurisdiction with this task force and on making you my partner. You ask me…?” He grins as he gets the front door opened and takes a step outside, “We’re gonna get along great.” 

He knows he made the right choice when he hears Dean swearing and grabbing his stuff before following him out the door. 

Doesn’t hurt that his new partner is probably the hottest thing Cas has ever seen, either. 

**Author's Note:**

> this might be a one-off, this might be a full-blown thing. who knows?
> 
> [read it on tumblr, here](http://domdanneel.tumblr.com/post/60993072286/the-house-is-quiet-empty-and-covered-in-crime)


End file.
